One Sentence Poems

Ryan Brennan Tell Me a Story That comes together better than the two sides of her lace white dress that she’s summoned you forward to zipper Ryan Brennan hasn’t read Blake, Whitman, Keats, or Dickinson.    

Ryan Brennan Slightly Off to the East I can hear the sounds of an owl Rising up through the pines Shaped like rings of smoke Floating from my grandad’s lips. Ryan Brennan is a poet living in the Catskill Mountains who writes poems his mother will read.    

Ryan Brennan To Whoever Moves in Next We’ll leave our ghosts In the garden And our love In the sunlight That filters Through the Kitchen. Ryan Brennan is a poet living in the Catskill Mountains who writes poems his mother will read.    

Ryan Brennan This Morning Against a blank iron fitted sky A small bird began whistling With cheeks full of sunlight. Ryan Brennan is a poet living in the Catskill Mountains who writes poems his mother will read.    

Ryan Brennan Her Voice It’s like a wave thats already crashed, the smoothing out of something broken. Ryan Brennan is a poet living in the Catskill Mountains.